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jb-nonsense · 1 year

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Leeloa Ke'Ta - Commander of the Alliance

Title(s): Hero of Tython, Battlemaster, The Outlander, Commander Birth Year: 13 BTC / 3666 BBY Birth Planet: Dantooine Species: Human Gender: Cis woman Sexuality: Demi-heteroromantic demisexual Alignment: Light Side Allegiances: The Alliance, The Republic

Appearance Basics

How much does she match her in game appearance: Pretty spot on Height: 5'5" | 1.65 m Build: Athletic, some curve with muscle underneath Hair: just below shoulder, brunette, wavy texture Eyes: bright Green Skin: Light peach color Scars: A scar on her chin Any piercings? Tattoos?: None

Brief Backstory:

Leeloa was born on Dantooine to a refugee woman named Meeria. Meeria married a Republic Refugee Resettlement Officer named Raqiel Ke'Ta and Leeloa spent the first six years of her life with her mother and step-father. On a mission to the Jedi ruins, Jedi Knight Hak Toth met her as she explored the ruins and, after some discussion with her mother, took her to be trained as a Jedi.

Leeloa was placed in a group with Praz Toth, Meella Q'Arno, and Kero Synagh. When she was nine, Kadryn Dubslayn was added to the group as well. They grew up together as close friends, but in her teen years, she and Kero grew closer. They began a relationship, but before their trials, agreed to break it off to focus on their Jedi studies.

Tragedy struck, though, when Master Hak Toth, Kero's master and a father figure to the group, was murdered by an overzealous Sith apprentice. Despite this pain, the group persevered and finished their training.

Connections:

Companions and NPCs

Archiban Froderick Kimble "Doc" (husband) - An unlikely duo, a flirtatious dreaming-of-heroism doctor and a respected Jedi, the pair are able to balance each other and bring out the parts of each other that they need

T7-O1 (friend) - Meeting on Tython, the pair were inseparable until Leeloa was frozen in carbonite. They were shortly reunited.

Kira Carsen (friend) - Leeloa finished Kira's training to be a knight and, despite some disagreements, Leeloa views her as a younger sister and still will mentor her if she needs it.

Fideltin Rusk (ally) - Meeting Rusk on Hoth, he joined her crew. The pair have a good relationship, albeit Leeloa does find his lack of concern for people and only looking at numbers a problem.

Lord Scourge (ally) - Leeloa was at first wary of the Sith and for good reason. Viewing him to be possibly the best source to stop the Emperor, she decided to work with him. While often disagreeing, the pair do find common ground and form a sort of friendship

Theron Shan (friend) - Theron asked for Leeloa's help on a mission and the pair found themselves comfortable around each other, easing into a close friendship. When Theron "betrayed" her, Leeloa refused to believe it, feeling as if he had something else up his sleeve. Which was true and Theron stayed with the Alliance.

Lana Beniko (friend) - Realizing their situation, Leeloa welcomed Lana's assistance and even enjoyed some conversation with her and her insight. While not as ruthless as Lana, Leeloa does appreciate her pragmatic side and the pair are an interesting balance of optimism and pragmatism.

Koth Vortena (friend) - Leeloa admires Koth's care for people and his sense of duty, and she found it interesting to see someone else's perspective on a villain and it helped her understand just how much Tenebrae could change how he appeared to others to have control. If she ever needs someone to relax with, she goes and hangs out in the cantina with Koth.

Senya Tirall (friend) - Senya vaguely reminds Leeloa of her mother; capable of being severe but with a softer side. Leeloa and Senya respect each other and support each other, and Leeloa will go to her for personal advice.

Arcann (ally) - Leeloa spared Arcann and helped him, bringing him back to the Light Side. This has caused him to have some dependency issues with her and Leeloa and others have been helping him gain a stronger sense of self and self respect.

Feel free to send asks about any others

My OCs

Orren Raqiel Kimble (son) - born during the events of Battle of Ilum, Leeloa missed her son dearly while she was trying to locate her companions after being unfrozen.

Meeria Ke'Ta (mother) - Before Leeloa went to the Jedi, her mother doted on her and was fiercely protective of her (info)

Raqiel Ke'Ta (adopted father) - Raqiel raised Leeloa as his own until she was adopted by the Jedi and still loves her as his daughter. (info)

Dolen Tevas (father) - a sith lord Leeloa has no relationship with, who went missing a few years after her mother went to the Republic (info)

Basimah Ke'Ta (half-sister) - Leeloa's younger after sister, she was two when Leeloa went with the Jedi and tries to keep up with her adventures as best she can. (info)

Fadyl Urdasher (adopted cousin) -Raqiel's nephew, when his family would visit Raqiel, Fadyl would play with Leeloa and now they occasionally work together in their fields; Jedi turned Commander and trooper turned Senator

Akos Zydrunas (adopted cousin-in-law) - An SIS agent Leeloa has briefly worked with, he ended up marrying Fadyl and he and Leeloa have a respectable relationship.

Kero Synagh (ex-boyfriend, friend) - Kero and Leeloa grew up together and entered a romantic relationship in their teenage years. They agreed to end it to focus on their training and remained friends.

Praz Toth (childhood friend) - Praz's father brought Leeloa to the Jedi and she grew up in the same clan as Praz. The pair have a strong supportive sibling bond and trust.

Meella Q'Arno (childhood friend) - The friend who always knows what to say and says it bluntly. Meella grew up in the same clan and always calls it how she sees it with Leeloa, even if Leeloa won't admit it.

Kadryn Dubslayn (childhood friend) - a latecomer to the youngling clan, Kadryn grew up with the others after brought to the Jedi. Kadryn's trauma with the Empire and Leeloa knowing her mother's own enabled them to bond and help heal each other.

If curious, ask about others

Other people's OCs

To be added

#swtor #star wars: the old Republic #swtor oc #star wars the old republic #Character: Leeloa Ke'Ta #Media: Character Sheet #Fandom: SWTOR #these will be coming out slowly #and also will be posted on ao3

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bardofavon · 1 month

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not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…

‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.

‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.

even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.

I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.

fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.

idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #tbh even if I got a comment that said ‘I hate you I’m going to kill your family’ on chapter 75 it still means they read 75 chapters first….#it just makes me sad to see so many writers shouting into the void #and also see ppl complain openly about the specific types of comments they receive #posting screenshots on Reddit like ‘should I be mad at this’ CALM DOWN #sigh

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kkshowtunes · 11 months

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google citing ao3 as a source is so unhinged

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iamanartichoke · 10 months

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I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

#fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #fandom things #tumblr things #i may have said this at some point #i'm sure i have #but whatever - just in case #i don't say this with the presumption that i'm so amazing and people are clamoring to save my fics #but just if anyone is so inclined that's all #ftr i don't intend on ever removing my fics from ao3 or deleting fandom things from this blog #i've always shared my fandom things with the intent of keeping them shared bc that's the whole point of posting #but the fandom atmosphere and ao3 constantly being under attack who knows what can happen #not that this applies to anyone but should all else fail you can also reach out to me and i will personally give you a copy #at least of fics bc i save everything #not so much the tumblr things but this is a good reminder to myself that i should do that for the things i care about #that i've made or done and only posted here #anyway sorry i have now used up my quota of the putting words into sentences doing for today #i have plans to stare into the void now

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jade-jupiter · 1 month

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no people come together quite as fast as ao3 readers when the site is down

#rallied forces in seconds flat it’s a little scary but also cool as fuck #ao3 #archieve of our own #ao3 is down #update: for the people saying it’s not down rn this post is from march 28th !!!

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felixcosm · 3 months

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I think it's mean how some people talk about fics on AO3.

'Oh you gotta wade through literal trash to find the good stuff'.

Were you not a beginner once? Did you not write crack fic or self indulgent things for your own entertainment?

Maybe don't speak that way about your fellow fic writers? Just because some fics aren't as polished as others, or involve fetishes and tropes you don't enjoy, or are not the style you want your fics to be doesn't mean they're trash.

It's a horrible thing to say and beginners are going to be discouraged from writing knowing that their fics might be considered trash because they're just starting out.

#on fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #this is inspired by a lot of the posts i see floating around that talk about fics like that #*i* dont read everything either #but you can say this is not for me without insulting the fics #(also mutuals this is not directed at any of you im not vaguing anyone on my dash)#these posts have existed for years

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newttxt · 3 months

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pls read the zosan fic “utilities included” and enjoy sanji making his own life as miserable as possible in plain view of his new roommate

from ch. 1 of utilities included (mind the tags and rating)

masterpost

#one piece #zoro #sanji #zosan #yes i proudly drew this for my friends fic. i think its genuinely charming and funny and well characterized #mind the tags and rating of course skfkdkfkkd #bree if ur out there… 🥰#im gonna reply to this with the link once it posts (im scheduling this for tomorrow) but also u can find her on ao3 at strawhattery #utilities included

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ash-and-starlight · 5 months

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another late @zukki-week entry, for day 2 // skinny dipping

and as a special treat it comes with @erisenyo's fantastic fic And Babe, (What Do you Mean) We Ain't Even Dating that this scene is based on!!

#id in alt text #befORE someone feels like being haha funny on my post #yes yue is watching over sokka's bare ass yes she is shining her best most flattering moonbeams on them #yes she supports bisexual endeavors #also!! this comes with a twitter bonus iykyk #im trying to upload it on ao3 too but its still giving me pROBLEMS will be up one day I prommy #suki #sokka #zuko #zukki #my art

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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1

The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.

Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.

The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home).

Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?

Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep).

He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that.

Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?

Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.

He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite.

Then, one day, he meets a girl.

Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.

He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back.

“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket.

“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.

“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”

She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle.

He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed.

He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth.

“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle.

“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him.

“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”

Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.

He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor.

When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue.

Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later.

In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes.

A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind.

He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself.

Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?

He looks pointedly away.

It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?

Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave.

“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”

“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.

“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”

“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”

The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder.

When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction.

Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that.

“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”

#99% chance im gonna edit this to fuck before i post it on ao3 because im trying to properly balance the pov switch #also its not done yet #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader

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karoochui · 2 months

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Sorry ive been dead i accidentally got fixated on my friends oc. Take these doodles that i (mostly) did before the tragic impact ft LD&RS moon who belongs to @spadillelicious

#also read love death and rollerskates on ao3 it fucks INSANELY hard #the third one was for an ask but idefk what the ask was anymore whoops #tbh just posting these so they arent lost in the hell that is my file organization #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #sundrop #binary resurgence #binary resurgence: round 2 au #fnaf moon #moondrop #dca x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #mikas stuff

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musashi · 1 year

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i also heard my co worker say 'i dont read dead dove' the other day like what the FUCK does gen z think it means??? are they just, like, changing the meaning??? what do you mean you dont read dead dove. you don't read ANYTHING? cause dead dove is not a genre or a trope it's a tagging system fdghdfh like???

#wordy wendy #i think we should make ppl under 25 take fandom 101 before theyre allowed to use AO3 #turning the reblogs off because some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post #and it is no longer educational #also if you put the words proshipper or anti in my tags im blocking you. die. go outside

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theorderofthetriad · 2 years

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anyways... here's why i think Loki and Matt Murdock should be each other's narrative foil(romantic):

• Loki- famously known liar, Matt Murdock- able to tell when people are lying

• Both wear helmets with horns on them, but Matt's are small and practical and Loki's are large and gaudy.

• Matt Murdock- Practicing Irish Catholic, Loki- Norse "God" of Mischief

• Loki- Presents himself as selfish and self preserving, Matt Murdock- Presents himself as selfless and self sacrificing

• Loki- Will flee if he knows he's gonna get his ass kicked for no gain, Matt Murdock- Knows he's gonna get his ass kicked for no gain and does it anyway

• They simply seem like prime material for a "We vehemently dislike each other up until we (whoops!) realize we love each other so much we can't live without the other" type romance that I am always obsessed over.

• Thor would enjoy it, and, frankly, he deserves the entertainment.

#this WAS a rant i made about some ao3 discourse i saw on my dash. but now it's better #frostdevil #<- the ship tag which you should check out #im fully serious about this btw. this seems like a joke bc it's inherently funny but im also 100% not making a joke #otp: horned helms something about lying #santagno #loki #matt murdock #daredevil #Top Tino Post

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mimiscappinisideblog · 10 months

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Me throughout 2020-2021-2022-2023:

Me the moment AO3 has been down for more than ten hours:

#someone put me out of my misery #i don't want to live on this planet anymore #mimi talks #GOOD THING THAT SOME AO3 WRITERS ALSO POST THEIR FICS HERE #HI. I LOVE YOU ALL #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #ao3 #archives of our own #pain and suffering

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sarasade · 5 months

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One of the most generally useful things to come out of Hbomberguy's plagiarism video and Todd in the Shadows' similar video on misinformation is how they bring transparency to the internet phenomenon of "I made up a guy to get mad at".

Seriously, I've seen people make up a lot of stupid shit on the internet over the years and it's often just a manipulative attempt to paint a group of marginalized people in a bad light.

That's the TL;DR version of this post.

ANYWAY here is the long version

Those videos are mostly about James Somerton's plagiarism of other queer people's work. However I'd like to talk about that 20-30% of Somerton's original writing- and oh boy. It's mostly about complaining about White Straight Women and misgendering well-known trans creators such as Rebecca Sugar and calling Becky Albertalli a straight woman while it's pretty common knowledge that she was forced to out herself as bi because she received so much harassment over "being a cishet woman who appropriates LGBT+ stories".

One thing that irks me especially is how in his Killing Stalking and Gay Shipping videos Somerton brings up how straight women/ teen girl shippers exploit gay men for their personal sexual fantasies. This gets brought up several times in his videos.

Being all up and arms about Somerton being a "White Cis Gay Who Hates Women and Queer People tm" is not that useful because the kind of rhetoric he's using is extremely common in fandom and LGBT+ spaces on Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter. We really don't need to bring Somerton's identity to this since he is in no way an unique example.

It's hypocritical to make this about an individual person when I've seen A TON of posts, tweets and videos where queer people talk about these Sinister Straight Women who are supposedly out there fetishizing and exploiting queer men. It's pretty clear to me that this is just an excuse to shit on women and queer people for having any sexual interests. At worst these comments are spreading misinformation about BL, a form of media that has been excessively studied by both Asian feminists and Asian queer women.

This all sounds really familiar and I think it's good that people are calling it out as what it is: misogyny and transphobia. I'd also point out the potentially racist motives behind being this hypervigilant about Asian media.

People can absolutely be misogynist regardless of gender or orientation. I really don't know why we need to create some kind of made up enemy to get mad at. I actually think it's almost sinister how "anti-fujoshi" people call Slash shippers and fujoshi misogynists or claim that they have internalised misogyny while being dismissive about women's interests and creative pursuits under Japanese obscenity laws, China's censorship, book bans in American schools and various other disadvances that are part of being a queer and/or female creator.

I think we shouldn't be naive about the bad faith actors who want to turn queer people against each other. For example Fujoshi.info mentions anti-gender (TERF, GC etc) movement using this kind of rhetoric as well.

Anyway if you want to read more:

- about the false info around BL fandom fujoshi.info

-There is the scholar Thomas Baudinette who studies gay media in Japan. Here is a podcast with him and the scholar Khursten Santos

-James Welker is a BL scholar as well. Here is a podcast interview about the new international BL article collection he edited.

-I've already talked about this Youtube channel by KrisPNatz and his great Killing Stalking video that actually engages with the themes of the manhwa

- There is also HR Coleman's thesis DO NOT FEED THE FETISHIZERS: BOYS LOVE FANS RESISTANCE AND CHALLENGE OF PERCEIVED REPUTATION where she interviews 36 BL fans and actually breaks down why fetishization has become such a huge talking point in the fandom discourse. Spoilers, it's mostly about young queer people and women being worried that they will get judged and pathologized for their interest in anything sexual.

-Great podcast about Danmei and censorship with Liang Ge

#Also I don't mean that you can always tell if someone is a transphobe or a TERF based on a couple of things they have said.#My point is that sometimes ok people can have very regressive ideas too.#This is not a call out post about how we should go around accusing anti-fujoshi people #todd in the shadows #hbomberguy #sarasade text #even I've got those “Fandom is mostly straight women fetishizing gay men” comments once and it begins to sound kind of passive-aggressive #when you're a bi woman. Lot of fandom stats at AO3 show that fandoms are montly bi women. who are these people calling straight exactly hmm #also straight women are completely ok leave them alone. I know I know Yes I'm so brave for saying this #cw: transphobia

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whiskygoldwings · 3 months

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The Tattooist

The first clone trooper client she tattoos is an act of remembrance.

The man stands forlorn and desperate in the reception area, his borrowed clothes fitting poorly on his slumped frame. His face is tight, like a man on the edge of screaming, holding it back by the skin of his teeth. She recognises this pain, and quickly ushers him into her workroom, calling for A'maa to take the front desk while she speaks to a client. He breaths slightly easier once they are no longer in public, and she gestures for him to sit on the well-worn sofa she reserves for guests.

“I haven't got many credits,” he admits straight up. “They don't exactly pay us. I just wanted to see what could be done for what I have.”

She nods and grabs a pad and stylus, settling herself into her armchair and crossing her legs. “Tell me what you want and how much you've got and I'll see what I can do.”

He swallows painfully, and reaches into his pocket. “I have exactly 134 credits,” he holds a handful of ingots, and she glances down before looking back at his face. “I looked you up; I know it's not much in terms of tattoos. It's just... It's all I could scrape together...” he stumbles over his words, embarassment curling his lips.

“And what you want?” She interrupts, halting his ashamed attempts at explaining himself.

He takes a deep breath, grimaces, then sighs. “My brother was killed in the last battle. His name was Star. The long-necks... The Kaminoans I mean, never let us mourn each other where they could see. But he's my brother. We were born of the same batch, he helped me when I struggled with the maths tests, we had each others backs... I have a million odd brothers, but he was mine...” He presses his thumb and forefinger into his tightly-shut eyes, choking back a sob. “I want to honour him forever. I want to carry him with me, in a way they can't take away from me.” At this he straightens, bringing his hand down to stare at her determinedly. “They can make us wash our armour off, take our possessions from us. They will have to flay my skin from me if they want to take this.”

She stares back, stylus against her lips, and feels a swell of righteous fury in her throat. She's always had a mild force-sensitivity. Not enough to make training her of any worth, but enough that she can get a feel of a person, enough she can get a taste of their emotions.

This is a proud, strong man. And he is not broken by the hardships he faces, as much as he should be.

She will honour his brother with him.

The design practically leaps from her stylus, as she coaxes little stories from him. Little tales of his brother. His name was Star, he tells her first, and she sketches the rough outlines of one. He named himself, the man tells her, not giving his own name. Named himself after the balls of fury in the universe that were always out of their reach of Kamino. He laughs quietly, painfully, as he tells her the first time they had snuck out on a rainless night, when there was a brief respite in the clouds of Kamino, and by chance, there was a meteor shower over head. They'd all been amazed, confused and delighted by the sight, their little squad of five. One of the trainers, a kind man named Kal, had chuckled and told them “That'll be a shooting star” when they ask him about the phenomena, and Star had whispered to him in their bunks that night that he had decided on his name.

“I used to call him a shooting Star when we were in sims,” the man admits, a crooked grin on his face. “He kicked me in the shin for it once. Think he actually kinda liked it though.”

She adds a trail of dust behind it.

“He was so proud of being an ARF,” the man whispers. “So proud when I was nominated for ARF training alone with him. I was never as good as him, but he always took me with him, wherever he went. When the Commander told us we were getting the training, he basically hugged him. The Commander just gave him a pat on the back and told him never to do it again or he'd demote him quick as sithspit” the man snorts. “He didn't mean it, but Star'd never moved so bloody quick back into a salute, I couldn't help laughing at him, the idiot.”

She tabs out and finds a reference for an ARF troopers helmet on the 'net, and draws the trail of star dust bursting out of it and curling round to meet with the star itself.

“Our battallion wears green. Mainly olive-green. The commander started it, reminds him of the General I suspect. We became Green Company.”

The dust trail gathers sprinkles of olive green, the Star limned in the colour. She hesitates for a moment, then asks. “What markings did he wear?”

The man startles; she'd been loath to bring him out of his memories, but she wants to make it accurate. Needs to make it accurate really. She can feel how important this piece is to the man, and she finds herself strongly opposed to disappointing him.

“He had two stars on the left hand side of his helmet, one within the other.” The man indicates a point on his crown, above his ear. “And his visor was lined in green. He had a stripe vertically down the right hand side, ending just under the visor itself. On his chest piece...”

She lets him continue detailing his armour, drawing another star in olive green within the big one, then delicately tipping the helmet to conceal where the star would have been on the left. She's good, but it would have been too small to depict without potentially bleeding into a solid line, and she doesn't want that to happen. Instead, she marks in the line on the right-hand side, and ensures the big star is representative of what she imagines was on the helmet.

He's trailed off, staring sightlessly at his hands in his lap. She doesn't want to shake him, suspects alarming a trained soldier out of his own mind would be a bad idea. Instead, she uncrosses her legs, and clears her throat lightly. He glances up at her, and she smiles and extends the pad to him.

“Is something like this what you had in mind?”

He blinks at her, than reaches over and takes the pad. She sees the moment when he takes in the image. His eyes widen, and a tear he's been holding back since well before he got here slides down his cheek. He presses his fist into his mouth, other hand shaking where it holds the pad and he nods, clenching his eyes shut. “y-yes... Oh yes...” He stammers, voice thick.

“Where would you like it?”

“Over my heart,” he whispers. “I will carry him always in my heart.”

She stands abruptly, making him jump slightly and reaches out for the pad. “Okay, shirt off and lie down on the bed for me please. I assume as a clone trooper you're routinely screened for any blood diseases?” He nods, standing up with a slightly dazed expression on his face. She nods back and turns away, beginning the ritual of preparing her inks. She's playing a game of avoidance now, knows she won't take this man's money, and if she can keep him from asking about it she may be able to get it finished before he finds out. She suspects he'd do the honourable thing and refuse to get the tattoo. It'll be harder for him to do if it's halfway done. And while normally she'd insist on a full disclosure form and signature, she gets the feeling having no hardcopy evidence of what is about to happen will be a very good idea. The pad will need reformatting after she's done, but she's been required to do that for other clients who want their body art to be completely untraceable, so she doesn't store anything of any import on it for long anyway. She hears the rustle of cloth behind her and smiles slightly to herself, pleased at a plan going well. “Would you tell me more about him please?”

The man takes a deep breath behind her, even as she hears the bed creak as he clambers onto it. “He was always good at slipping by unnoticed. It's how he kept us both out of trouble back in training...”

She finishes mixing up the colours she needs as he begins to tell her about their childhood, what little of it there was. Checks her machine and cleans the patch of skin above his heart as he laughs about a prank played on one of their batchmates. It warms her and chills her at the same time, realising how little they had, but what great things they made of what they did. She prints out the stencil and places it over his chest as he whispers about Star easing him through the tail end of a nightmare, checking quietly that he's happy with the position before pressing the needle to his skin. He breaths in through his nose once when she starts, and she glances up at him, but he smiles and continues on into a story about when they first met their Jedi, and how Star gushed about her afterwards. She sinks into the meditative process of stamping lines into being, bringing colour to life, all the while surrounded by the man's soft voice building a memorial to his brother in their room.

When it's finished, the man looks surprised. “I thought it would take longer than that?” He blinks at her, “And be more painful in all honesty.”

She grins, “You did your research well hon, I'm good at what I do.”

He laughs and sits up, wincing slightly as the skin stretches around the wound. She squirts cleaner onto a cloth and holds it towards his chest, pausing before touching the tattoo for him to give a nod of permission, then wipes carefully across it, removing excess ink and stencil gently. Looking it over critically, she's happy with what she's done, knows she's poured herself into this tattoo as well. The lines are clean and crisp, the colours deep and rich. The helmet tilts up to look at the star above it, the trail of stardust sweeping behind it and curling up to emerge from the opening of the helmet at the bottom. Olive green accents in the tail, the line over the right-hand side of the helmet and around the visor, and the outer and inner two stars. She nods to herself, and grins up at him. “Ready to see it?”

He swallows nervously, but nods. She feels her grin quirk into a proper smile, then holds out her hand to him. He looks at it for a second, then places his own in hers, and she helps pull him from the bed. She keeps hold of his hand as she guides him to the full length mirror just beside the couch, and gently pulls him to stand infront of it. The hand in hers trembles as he stares at his reflection, taking a moment on his own face to gather his courage, then looks down at his chest.

The noise that punches out of his lungs is almost animal, and she grips his hand tightly. He cries openly, other hand reaching up to hover just under the tattoo as he looks down at his own chest. It's several moments before he can say anything, and she stands next to him the whole time, holding his hand as he clenches onto hers. He cries and cries, grief finally allowed expression, as she gives him silent comfort in proximity. His first words are “thank you”, and she smiles at him, as he starts to collect himself and turns away from her to try and pull himself back together.

“I'll give you a few minutes to check it over and make sure you're happy before I bandage it up,” she murmers, and steps quietly out of the room, giving him privacy in his sorrow.

A'maa glances up at her as she steps out, raising an eyebrow. Strictly speaking, she wasn't supposed to be working today, and she hadn't considered that A'maa might have had to turn away one of her own clients when she committed to tattooing the man. But A'maa glances over at the door to her workroom and shakes her head. “Don't worry about it Elaah,” she whispers, “Whatever it was, it was clearly important.”

“Yes,” Elaah whispers back, walking over to cradle herself in A'maa's outstretched arm, seeking the comfort of her own found family. “Yes, it really was.”

It's a few more minutes before the man opens the door, glancing around the edge of it. She quickly cuts off her conversation with A'maa and smiles at him. “Ready to get bandaged up?”

He nods and smiles, face a little blotchy from the tears, though neither she nor A'maa say anything. She gives A'maa's shoulder a quick squeeze, then heads into the room, leaving the door ajar this time. The man stands infront of the mirror again, gazing down at his new ink, and she quickly grabs the bits she needs to finish off. He smiles at her as holds the fake skin bandage up to his chest, carefully sizing it up to fit nicely over the tattoo.

“How much do I owe you?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“Nothing hon, you paid me in stories.”

He protests immediately, as she suspected he would. “Too late hon!” she grins at him. “It's already on your skin and I'll throw your credits out onto the street after you if you try leaving them behind. Good luck winning this one!” She winks and pats him on the shoulder, turning away to grab his top and thrusting it into his abdomen. He grabs it and gapes at her, clearly not quite sure what to say, before straightening and flashing a sheepish grin at her.

“You planned this from the start didn't you?” He asks, pulling the top over his head and rolling his eyes as she throws him a cheeky wink and nods.

“I've got to give you something, this means so much to me... You have no idea...” He gulps and shakes his head, blinking fresh tears out of his eyes. “Tell you what, I'll make sure anyone else who might be thinking of getting some ink heads this way?”

She shrugs. “I'm not going to turn down customers, but you don't owe me anything. I just hope you think of Star whenever you see it.”

“I will,” he murmurs, a hand going to rest over where the tattoo sits over his heart. He glances up at her. “My name is Trix. I just... wanted you to know that.”

She smiles at him, and gently rests a hand over his own. “Thank you Trix.” she says, smiling up at him, “Thank you for everything you and your brothers do for us.”

He grasps her hand with his other one and squeezes it tightly for a moment, before turning around and walking out the shop.

#the clone wars #clone troopers #fanfic #fanfiction #feels #tattoos #tattoos as healing #star wars #oc characters #also posted to ao3 #CentrauGuardian

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